Tumblr Prompt 32: I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified
by addisonzella
Summary: Ficlet drabble from Tumblr Prompt #32: "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified." Takes place in season 2 episode 25, Anasazi. Originally published on AO3
"Hello?" Scully answered her phone to a traumatized Mulder at the other end.

"My father is dead, Scully." He wasn't crying and she realized he was in shock. She calmly talked him through the ordeal.

He needed her to understand that he did not kill his father. "You've got to believe me, Scully," he begged her.

Scully's world ceased to spin on its axis as she identified his miserable petition. Of course she believed he did not kill his father. Mulder was the only person she trusted, but now, her primary concern was getting him to safety. "Mulder, I believe you. Just listen to me! You've got to get out of there."

For the next half hour, Scully paced in front of the door to her apartment, looking through the peephole every few seconds. Finally, she heard Mulder's footsteps bumbling down the hallway. Scully unlocked her front door and pulled it open. Mulder collapsed into her, too sick to indulge in petty small talk. He wrapped his arms around the small of Scully's back and felt her hips through her long suit jacket. He shut his eyes and inhaled, his nose in her soft hair.

"Oh, Mulder. " Scully clutched him in an effort to keep him upright. She brushed her tender fingers over his face and forehead. He was burning up. "My god. Look at you, you're sick."

Scully followed Mulder as he sank to the armchair by her door.

"I'm okay," he mumbled as Scully pulled the zipper on his jacket downwards. She tugged him up by grasping his torso.

"No, I want you to lie down." Scully was in doctor-mode and spoke to Mulder as she would any patient, with firm directions. "Take your coat off," she instructed as she helped him wiggle out of it.

Mulder noticed the blood stains covering the front of his plaid shirt. Scully brushed his trembling fingers from his buttons and removed the offending material for him. Then, she helped him move towards the bed.

Scully braced Mulder's chest with her hand as he crumpled to mattress. She swiftly pulled back the bedding before he completely sank down.

Scully left the room and Mulder heard water splash the ceramic of her sink. When she returned, he was speaking rapidly, his urgency animating him. "We've got to find who killed him, Scully."

She distracted him with a cool, wet cloth againt his forehead and he hissed through his teeth at the icy cold. Scully leaned over him and caressed his cheek with the back of her palm.

"It's okay," she soothed. "It only feels cold because you're so hot."

Scully knew he was sick, but when he did not use this as an opportunity to make a joke about how hot he was, it concerned her even further.

Mulder closed his eyes for several seconds and Scully breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he was going to sleep. She pulled the comforter up over his feverish body and he snapped to attention, gripping her wrists with his sweaty, bloodstained hands.

There was a driving fear in his eyes. "You said someone almost killed you tonight? In my apartment?"

Scully, her wrists still bound by Mulder's grip, lowered herself to the bed next to him.

"I'm okay, Mulder," she pulled one hand free to brush the wet hair from his scorching forehead.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head from side to side. "What if something had happened to you?"

Mulder opened his eyes and Scully furrowed her brows when she saw the tears that threatened to fall. He pulled her on top of him and his sweaty fingers snagged her hair. She tucked the top of her head under his chin. His skin was sticky and warm against her cool cheek.

Mulder clenched his biceps and pulled her even closer. He tipped Scully's face up by her chin and spoke so quietly that she probably would not have understood him had she not been able to read his lips. "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

Scully lowered her head back onto his chest before he could see her lower lip quiver. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. But how much of his confession was fueled by his feverish delirium? Still, they remained in that position all night, neither willing to let go of the other.


End file.
